Rainbow
by mintyblue12
Summary: A girl named Barbie Chu had a son who is his father named Andy died in an accident, His twin brother, KEN finding him until love comes out beneath
1. Default Chapter

Chapter 1 - A Surprise That Will Change his Life

"Are you Mr. Ken Chu?"

The man who stood beside his car was young, sandy-haired, a little soft around the middle. His face was unfamiliar, but pleasant enough.

"That's right," Ken agreed a little warily, his hand gripping the car door. Salesmen didn't know your name.

The man extended a card. "Yao Lee, private investigator."

Ken took the card. It was plain, but the paper was heavyweight, expensive, the print engraved. His wariness edged into apprehension.

"What can I do for you?" he said.

The P.I. cleared his throat. "Mr. Chu, did you have a brother named Andy?"

Andy. Sometimes he could almost forget the part of himself he'd lost with the estrangement. Being reminded was a jolt.

"I have a brother named Andy." Admitting won't give any harm? "Did he hire you?"

The first real emotion showed on that bland face. "Hire me? You're not aware ....?"

"Aware of what?" Ken asked sharply.

Unexpected compassions added a few lines to the man's face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Chu. It's your brother's widow who hired me to find you. I'm afraid he's dead."

_Dead_? Andy? Shock held Ken still, unseeing . Dead? How could his brother be dead without him knowing.

Images flashed through his mind with scattergun speed: the boy, cheeks still childishly round, beguiling their prep teacher; Andy, maybe ten, on the basketball court; hanging upside down from the top bunk in their bedrooms, tongue out and eyes crossed; lounging against his locker in high school, winking crazily at some girl; the eighteen year old, wiping blood from his nose and snarling. This last image was sharp, though seven years old. They hadn't seen each other since. Seven years, and Ken didn't have to wonder what his brother had looked like before he died. All he had to do was glance in a mirror.

"How long ago?" he asked numbly.

"Two years. I'm sorry. I ---"

"How?" Ken's teeth were set. "How did he die?"

"I'm not quite sure. Mrs. Chu didn't say."

_Mrs. Chu_. Andy had married and Ken had never known. He could not picture his brother standing at the altar, gaze held by one woman. Couldn't imagine him saying, "I do", and meaning it. Lifting the veil and kissing her, sweeping her across a threshold, staying faithful, maybe changing diapers or coaching a basketball team. Making a marriage work, when Ken hasn't tried even once.

Seven years. He kept bumping up against it. They had been so young when he'd broken his brother's nose and walked away without looking back. Their parting was not supposed to be permanent, whatever he had said at the time. Ken had figured out that Andy would give him some time to cool off. Their parents were devastated when Andy didn't not show up from then on. Alone on Christmas eve this year, Ken had started thinking maybe it was time he did the finding. But even then it had been too late.

Ken closed his eyes for a moment, let the pain rip open a wound, he had thought long healed. He rubbed a hand over his face.

"After two long years, why does she want to find me now".

The P.I. was not aware that only now he discovered that he will be the bearer of bad news. He was talking, and with difficulty. Ken just heard something ... a son ... A son who is five years old.

"Do you have a picture?"

The P.I. groped in one pocket of his jacket, then the other. "Mrs. Chu thought ..."

"A picture would soften me?"

"Yes. No. That is ... "

Ken took the picture. It was a school picture showing him together with his teacher and classmates. Ken knew his eyes, almond and dark; they were Andy's – and his own.

But how come his hair isn't an inch long, dark and fine, revealing the shape of his skull. And he was ghost pale, and thin.

He lifted his gaze and asked Mr. Yao. "What's wrong with him?".


	2. The Widow

Chapter 2 - The Widow

"Leukemia, " Mr. Yao said bluntly. "He needs bone marrow transplant. Mrs. Chu is not suitable to be a donor and the hospital has not found one. Because you and Jason's father were twins, the chances are excellent that your tissue is a match."

As he absorbed the news, Ken lowered his gaze to the picture again. Andy's son. His nephew. Maybe dying for lack of his father.

"What do I need to do?" he asked simply.

Barbie ran the vacuum cleaner down the hall. She has to finish cleaning the house now or else there won't be any time left for her second job. It's good that her son is in school. She went to her bedroom and caught a picture of her son and Andy's. Barbie blinked hard to clear the mist from her eyes. When she realized her nose was running, too, she

mumbled, "Oh, damn. Why did I have to start?"

She was blowing her nose when a knock sounded on the front door. Well, maybe it's her neighbor Jake checking on them. She tossed the tissue on the wastebasket and hurried to answer the door.

"Hi, I'm all set –". When she saw the tall, dark-haired man standing outside the door, shock snatched her breath and her voice with it. Andy. Oh, God, her dead husband was within arm's reach. Clutching the door frame, she whispered his name.

He moved his shoulders uncomfortably. "No, I'm Ken Chu. Andy's brother."

Still she sagged against the door, staring. She knew Andy had a twin, had even hired the private investigator to find him, but somehow she'd never dreamed that he would be Andy all over again. The hair, straight and silky, those dark slash of brows over brown eyes, the thin hard mouth, and a set of white teeth. Her unbelieving gaze searched his face for some difference, anything she could fasten on to convince herself that he wasn't Andy, that Andy hadn't found a way to come back to her.

He flushed under her stare, something her supremely confident husband would never have done. But still...

His clothes. She seized on it. Andy would never have chosen anything as a gray suit, white shirt and maroon tie. Yet that suit jacket would have hung just the same way her husband's shoulders had he worn it. Even this man's hands, tanned, large, and half-curled into fists, could have been Andy's. She made another strangled sound.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't think. I should have let Mr. Yao warn you.

She lifted her gaze back to his face. "He found you?"

"Yeah. I thought you'd be pleased."

"Pleased." She sounded and felt blank, too stunned for rational thought.

He made that uneasy movement with his shoulders again. "Mr. Yao said you needed me."

Understanding flooded back and with it embarrassment. She pressed hands to her hot cheeks. "Ken. Your name is Ken."

His eyes met hers. "Yes, Andy called me Ken."

"I'm sorry. Come in. I've been rude. It's just..."

"We look so much alike. I understand. I suppose it's ... unnerving."

He stepped past her and she gave a small shiver. "He said you were identical twins. But somehow I thought after all these years there would be differences.

"There probably are. Were." Just inside the living room he stood silent for a moment , his back to her. "I didn't know he was dead."

"I'm sorry," Barbie said again. "I should have tried to find you then. But that's when Jason got sick. I just couldn't deal with everything. It was easy for me to convince myself that you wouldn't care."

"We were twins. A lot came between us, but no matter what, we were tied together." He faced her and his mouth twisted. "I can't believe he's dead."

"Please sit down." She moved to the couch and curled up on one end, watching him sit stiffly in the worn wing chair she kept meaning to reupholster.

"How?" His voice was hoarse. "How did he die?"

"A motorcycle accident. He always drove too fast. He had this new motorcycle he really loved."

"He always wanted one, but my parents would not allow it. Because they know how he loved the fast life."

She nodded, even though he probably didn't see her. "I was glad when we could afford it. We don't get to fulfill that many dreams. Now I'd give anything to take it back. May if he'd been driving a different vehicle he wouldn't have been going so fast. All he was doing was coming home from work. Just a normal commute." She fell silent, remembering the night.

She was remembering the night. The night when she received a phone call telling her that Andy had an accident. Everything was a blur. She didn't know how she was able to go to the hospital. When she arrived there, he was dead. Nothing could bring him back to them.

All those memories keep on resurfacing from time to time. Sitting across her, she thought Andy was here again.

She was bolted when she heard him say "Where's Jason?

"Huh? Ahh,, Jason is in school. He'll be here lunchtime.

"Mr. Yao told me he has leukemia. Tell me, what can I do for him?"


	3. I've Got it all And you Don't

Chapter 3 "I've Got it All; And You Don't"

"Mr. Yao told you about my son?"

Ken leaned forward, "He said he has leukemia. He showed me a picture."

"Yes." She bit her lip. "He's doing fine right now, but doctors give him only three to five years unless he has a bone-marrow transplant. We can't find a donor who matches. Would you be willing?"

"That's why I'm here." He frowned. "Isn't his the usual childhood leukemia? I thought doctors were doing wonders with chemotherapy."

"They are." Her throat wanted to close, which surprised her. She and Jason had lived with the bogeyman for two years now; she'd explained the illness over and over again to teachers and principals and the parents of Jason's friends. Why was it hard now to describe the monster inside her child?

Somehow she kept her voice steady. "Jason – has a more unusual form of leukemia for children, called chronic myelogenous leukemia. It was such a shock. He started having stomach cramps. We though he had the flu. A week later he felt better and did his usual routing, like playing. But then the cramps started again. He was in agony. Of course, I took her to the doctor." Barbie looked down to find that she was wringing her hands. With an effort she separated them.

"That must have been frightening."

She let out a breath in a laugh that held no humor. "Terrifying is a better word. When I was a child, my best friend died of leukemia. They couldn't do anything then. She just... came home until she was too sick, then went into the hospital to die. To have Jason get it, too..." Why? She cried inside. Dear God, why him?

Ken stirred, as though he would have liked to cover over to her. Or was he longing to bolt, instead? Barbie had discovered that many people were so uncomfortable with the subject they avoided her.

"Jason had lumps, too, around his ankles. He'd noticed them and just ... shrugged them off, I guess. He was only three years old. As soon as he was diagnosed, they started chemotherapy. He lost all his hair and was horribly sick. He responded well, though. But the doctors warned us that this form of leukemia is essentially curable without a transplant. All they could do was buy time."

"When was this?"

She scrubbed at suddenly wet cheeks. "Two years ago."

"Then Andy was alive...?"

"No." Oh, how angry she'd been to him! He'd been dead a month when he got sick.

He made a sound in his throat. "Did you have anyone to ...?"

"Friends." She tried to smile. "Strangers. People. They were wonderful."

His dark eyes didn't waver. "Then what happened?"

"We couldn't find a donor. I have such a small family, and none of us comes close. The donor registry hasn't fond anyone. Two months ago, Jason got really sick again." Barbie fought for composure. "This time the doctors used both chemotherapy and radiation. If... if he gets that sick again, he might be too weak to survive the procedure. He desperately needs the bone-marrow transplant."

"Was she sure to match either Andy or you?"

"No." Did she sound as helpless as she felt? Barbie wondered. "A patient can have a large family and not be a close enough match with any of them. But the odds are a lot better with you than they would be with someone unrelated. Then the odds become something like one in twenty thousand."

He rose as though he couldn't bear to sit any longer. "I'll do anything."

She stood slowly, her eyes blurred, "thank you, she whispered."

He came around the end of the coffee table, this man who looked so much like her husband. There he stopped, as though unsure what to do or uncertain of her reaction. If he'd opened his arms, she would have stepped into them, laid her head against his chest, accepted his strength and comfort. It was disquieting to know how easily she could have accepted almost anything from him, a total stranger. She didn't like to think she would have pretended he was Andy.

This man's eyes were unreadable, dark, but he lifted a hand and carefully brushed away the tears from her cheek. The gesture was heart-stoppingly intimate, and yet innocent. Any adult might do the same to a hurt child.

"I..." Her voice was high, breathless. "I'd better call the hospital. Make... make arrangements."

He cleared his throat and stepped back. "I can go anytime."

She blinked at the reminder of everyday details, and was a little ashamed she hadn't asked any questions about his life. Not even where he lived.

"Do you live around Shanghai" Or did you fly in?"

"Flew. I'm from Taiwan."

"Maybe they could still do the blood test today. You haven't checked into a hotel already, have you? I have an extra bedroom."

He shook his head immediately. "I'm afraid I can't stay overnight. Not this time. I have an early-morning meeting back in Taiwan."

She wondered if he'd planned it that way to give himself an escape. Would they ever see him again after the procedure? Did it matter? She asked herself impatiently. He was here now; that was what counted.

"Um... would you like a cup of tea? Or anything else?"

"Thank you." He said, "but no."

"Then excuse me for a moment."

"Mrs. Chu?" His voice stopped her in the doorway.

"She turned, "Yes?"

"Mr. Yao didn't tell me your name. He kept calling you the widow."

"Barbie." She actually smiled, if tremulously. "I'm Barbie Chu."

The touch of his dark eyes was as palpable as a knuckle brushing her cheek. "Barbie. Barbie and Jason."

"Does it feel strange?" She flattened her hand against the door frame. "To be here like this when you didn't even know we existed?"

"Very strange," he admitted, "but right."

She gave a small nod and left him in her living room. In her bedroom she sat down on the bed, reached for the phone – and suddenly felt herself trembling all over. She squeezed her hands into fists and closed her eyes. It was just reaction – the shock of finding her husband's double on her doorstep and the knowledge that he could be the gift of life to Jason.

She knew she was crying again, but didn't care. He'd come without hesitation. He was willing. For the first time in a long while, she had hope.

The house was too silent after his brother's widow left the room. Feeling the tension in his neck and back, Ken listened for her footsteps or her voice. Nothing. It was though she'd never existed, as thought he'd imagined finding her. He began to pace.

He had pictures of Andy, too, a couple of boxes of albums that had been faithfully kept by his mother, stashed in a seldom opened closet. He'd gone straight to the mansion as soon as he was through with Mr. Yao. When he pulled the albums out of the box and flipped them open, he'd found only the kid his brother had been: cheeky, smart-mouthed, too charismatic for his own damned good. His twin. That part of himself he'd savagely excised. None were of the man Andy had become. He had cried finally, howls of agony he'd kept corked tightly inside for too many years. With the knowledge of Andy's death, the seal had failed, and the poison his bitterness and loneliness poured out. It was the most terrible night of his life, worse than discovering how his brother had betrayed him, or worse than their fight.

And now he would be confronted with the man his brother had become. Bracing himself, Ken approached the living room. Andy was there alright, in half-a-dozen photos, grinning that crooked lazy way women always had found irresistible. He tried to look away from the photos until he could control his reaction, but the hunger to see his brother's face was too great. Andy hadn't changed very much from Ken's memory of him, which didn't gibe with Andy's having been a married man. Maybe the change was all on the inside.

Andy and Jason. They really looked alike, like him to Andy. But the ones he found himself most reluctant to look at were those that included Barbie, the studio portraits. In them, they were the perfect family; broad-shouldered handsome man hovering protectively his delicate wife and cute son. Andy's expression seemed to hold a little smugness_; I've got it all, Ken_ imagined him saying. As a kid, Andy would have added, _And you don't._

Ken swore under his breath and muttered, "Grow up." He wasn't talking to his brother. He was shocked to discover how much competitiveness he still felt. No wonder, until now he's not married.


	4. Jason

Chapter 4 Jason

Right now most of it had to do with Barbie Chu, the woman Andy had married. Didn't it figure that, at least in the looks department, she was exactly what had always attracted Ken more than his brother? Long black hair – not the curly blond hair. Pearly skin, small nose, brown eyes that were candid and uncomfortably perceptive. A small-boned build that looked fragile but probably wasn't. He'd noticed her short unpainted nails, seen a few scratches on her hands. Her clothes didn't match the china-doll image, either; she wore snug, faded denim jeans with a Madras cotton shirt knotted around her slender waist, outlining small but shapely breasts.

Andy had always liked flashier women, ones with big tits and pouty lips and invitation in their eyes. Which hadn't stopped him from pursuing the ones with a quieter kind of beauty once he'd noticed his brother's interest. It had been his life's work to demonstrate that anything Ken could have or do, he could have or do, too.

Ken focused on his brother's grin again and could have sworn it had become a taunt from the past.

"What the hell is the matter with me?" he said aloud, backing away from the mantel. Good God, he did still hate Andy after al this time? Maybe his brother never had been the one with the problem. Maybe he was.

Before he had a chance to pursue the disquieting thought he heard the front door slam, quick footsteps and a boy's voice. "Hey Mom, what are you doing ---"He broke off suddenly, obviously noticing there was a man in the living room. His back was still to him. "Oh sorry. I didn't know anybody was here."

Ken turned to face him with damn near as much reluctance as he'd approached the family portrait gallery. He shouldn't have come like this, taken them by surprise.

He got what he expected and deserved. The skinny, dark-haired boy first flushed, then paled. In a clogged voice he said, "Daddy?"

He felt lower than lice. Nothing like replaying this scene, and with a child even more vulnerable than his mother.

"No," he said quickly. "No, I'm not your father. I know I look like him. We were twins. I'm his brother."

He did nothing but stare from those huge almond dark eyes for a long unnerving moment. Then he said tentatively, "Are you Uncle Ken?"

"Yeah. That's me."

"Daddy ..." He pressed his lips together. "Daddy used to talk about you."

"Did he have anything good to say?" Ken cringed inwardly at his question. Did he sound like he was begging? Throw me a crumb. Tell me my brother remembered me with some affection.

"Well, of course!" His smile was unexpectedly merry in that solemn little face. "He used to tell me about things you both did like doing pranks with your classmates. How your classmates get confused because you look alike. He told me also how you tricked your butler when one of you doesn't like to go to school. He said he hadn't had as much fun since."

That part had hurt his feelings, Ken could tell. He wanted to tell him the pranks hadn't been fun at all, though probably they'd started out that way. But he could hardly say, "Your dad lied. He liked cruel pranks."

He settled for, "Twins can pull strings off that no one else can."

"I wish I had one," he said wistfully.

This pang was closer to a knife stabbing in his chest. If he had a twin, he could be cured of leukemia. He had to be thinking that.

"It has its down side. Sometimes..." He hesitated, then said what he'd never admitted aloud, "Sometimes you're not sure whether you exist at all alone."

His eyes were disconcertingly intense. It was a relief when, after a moment, he ducked his head and hunched her shoulders awkwardly. "Uh, do you know where my mom is?"

"She went off to make a phone call."

"Oh." His head lifted and he offered him a polite smile. "Excuse me. I'll go tell her I'm home."

"Sure."

He turned and walked right into his mother, who came through the doorway. Jason gasped, and Barbie gave him a hug. "Sorry. I sneaked up on you." Though her tone was light, Barbie's gaze went straight to him, and he saw the wariness in it. "Did you meet your uncle Ken?"

"Yeah, and he is what Dad told me."

Had Andy talked about him often?" Missed him? Ken had a disorienting sense of the ground shifting under his feet. All these years he'd done his damnedest not to think about his brother. Someday they'd forgive and forget. But what was the hurry? Apart from Ken, his mirror image, maybe Andy would quit feeling as if he had to prove himself over and over again. Maybe he'd find contentment.

Well, to all appearances he had. With luck, he'd been freed to remember Ken with fondness.

Mother and son were staring at him, he realized suddenly. He'd been silent too long, missed something. "I'm sorry, "he said.

Nobody repeated whatever it was. Jason suddenly frowned. "Why is uncle Ken here now?"

The alarm in Barbie's eyes was clear, as was her dilemma. Did she tell the truth and perhaps falsely, raise his son's hopes? Or lie?

He had no idea how much his nephew knew about his illness. His nephew. Already he couldn't bear to think of him dying. If he hadn't seen that school picture, which must have been taken a few months ago, he might not have believed in his illness. His hair was several inches longer and straight, a halo surrounding a piquant face that was all cheekbones and high forehead and big eyes. He was thin, but no more so than many boys his age. His father had probably looked much the same, which he forgot, a mirror image of himself.

If she'd meant to lie, Barbie shouldn't have hesitated as long as she did.

Jason stepped away from his mother and lifted his chin. "It has something to do with my leukemia, doesn't it?"

Barbie visibly gathered herself. "Yes," she said gently. "He's here to have his blood tested to find out whether he might be suitable bone-marrow donor."

Jason went completely still, unblinking. Then she focused on his face, gave a small nod and said quietly, "Thank you." She turned to his mother. "May I get a snack?"

"Of course you can, honey." Lines formed on Barbie's brow as she watched her son leave the room, composure.

Ken waited for a moment. Then he asked in a low voice, "Is he afraid of the transplant?"

He had never seen a woman look as vulnerable as Barbie Chu did at the moment. "Do you know," she said, "I don't have the slightest idea?"

"He doesn't talk to you?" he asked incredulously.

She clasped her hands together as though she was praying. "On any other subject, yes. On this one... he listens and nods and asks questions when he doesn't understand something. Usually he answers a direct question. But as close as we've always been, I truly don't know how frightened he is. I think..." Her voice broke. "It's as if he senses my fear and doesn't want to burden me with his."

He nodded and shoved his fisted hands into his pants pockets. It was the only way he could figure to keep himself from pulling her into his arms. They didn't know each other well enough for that, even if he felt as though they did. Or maybe he only wished they did.

"When do they want me at the hospital?" he asked with unplanned brusqueness.

She gave her head a shake, as though she could rid herself of sad thoughts like a dog shaking off water droplets. "Now, if you want to go. At least you're going against rush-hour traffic. You can make it in forty-five minutes.

"How long until they know whether I'm a match?"

"A while, unfortunately. Next week sometime. The doctor guessed Thursday." Barbie smiled wanly. "You wouldn't believe how slowly time can crawl. Or how little sleep you can exist on."

He knew damn well that he wouldn't sleep much tonight, either. No more than he had last night. Then he'd had only his brother's ghost to torment him. Now, Jason, would stand beside his father to stare reproachfully at him in his waking nightmares.

She and his mother needed him, and he hated like hell knowing that his ability to play the hero was no more than tomorrow's weather.

_Yeah, he told himself, and if you do turn out to be the hero, it's only because you're a carbon copy of Andy. A humbling thought_.

_**Author's Note:**_

**_Thanks for your comments. I know you'll find it odd for me to pair Barbie and Ken but I like variety. There are a lot of Ken-Rainie, Barbie-Vic/Jerry fics here, so I'm trying a different tandem just to make both of them flexible. This is not a spin-off of Mars, though maybe next time I'll write a Mars fic. With your comments, I am more inspired to continue writing. I know there are also silent readers (well, I used to be one) out there_**.


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